


Broken Wings Wont Keep You Down

by Mijali



Category: RWBY
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Drabble, F/F, Short One Shot, rwby v6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 19:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16501478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mijali/pseuds/Mijali
Summary: Yang and Blake still have a lot to talk about, but maybe, in this moment, it's okay if they don't. It's okay if they just be.





	Broken Wings Wont Keep You Down

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this Tumblr post: https://tinyurl.com/y99fnsy6

Blake is freezing.  

She pulls her jacket (thin, too thin, if not for her aura she’d have frozen hours ago) closer around her.    
  
“We raided some of the luggage here, so if anyone needs something warmer, let me know!”    
  
Ruby says it cheerfully, but Weiss is holding a bundle of clothing as well, and giving Blake a pointed look that makes her come over and grab a black sweater to put under her coat and a scarf to wrap around her ears.    
  
Yang takes a sweatshirt, but shoves it in her duffle, and Blake assumes it must be for an emergency, since her aura keeps her far warmer than anyone else’s.    
  
Ruby’s cloak is fairly good for keeping the chill out, but she grabs an extra pair of leggings just in case. 

The four girls stood awkwardly at the back of the train car, where they had regrouped earlier to come up with a plan for getting to Argus that involved the least amount of Grimm attacks possible.    
  
“I’m going to put this on really quick.” Blake shivers and Ruby nods.   
  
“Good idea. I’m going to see if Qrow and Ozpin need anything.”    
  
“I’ll go with you.”    
  
And with that, Ruby and Weiss leave to go to the front of the car, and Blake and Yang are alone.    
  
Yang, who’s trying hard to pretend she isn’t watching her, even though Blake knows the instant Yang’s posture shifts, knows the second she spoke that Yang had looked up, that her breathing had hitched.    
  
Blake shoulders out of her coat and Yang gasps and it makes her pause with it hanging around her elbows. Yang’s eyes bore holes into her stomach and she realizes suddenly what she saw, what Blake herself had almost forgotten about, such a small wound compared to what Yang had lost that she’d put it out of her mind the moment they’d found each other in Haven.    
  
Yang’s expression’s tumultuous, her eyes focus solely on the scar, and Blake starts to pull her jacket up, back over her shoulders but Yang says, ‘wait’ and she stands, takes a tentative step forward and says, ‘don’t’.    
  
And Blake doesn’t.    
  
The jacket falls to the floor as Yang takes slow, painfully slow, steps forward. Careful steps, as if she’s afraid she’ll break her, as if she’s afraid Blake’s already broken, or maybe that she herself is broken, and crossing the distance will shatter her further.    
  
Her left arm, the human one, raises up but it pauses, fingers shifting in the silence, showing her indecision, agitated at her inaction, until finally she lowers it and raises her right, the yellow metal glinting, catching the emergency lights, the sun from the windows, and with her final step she closes the gap and brushes it lightly over the scar. 

She finally,  _ finally _ , she brings her gaze up to meet Blake’s, and it’s steady. It’s heavy and full of everything that hasn’t been said yet, of everything they need to say and Blake whispers, ‘Yang’, and her voice cracks and pulls her close, and she’s warm, so impossibly warm, and Blake doesn’t think they could be closer if they tried, and she’s clutching Yang’s jacket as tight as her hands will allow, and she’s crying, and Yang’s running her human hand through her hair, and she says, ‘It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.’    
  
“But when?” She barely recognizes her own voice, with how much it’s trembling, and Yang doesn’t answer, but she holds her tighter, and Blake knows that that’s the best she can hope for right now, the promise that it will be alright, that they’ll move past this.    
  
She buries her face further into Yang’s shoulder, and she still smells like the cinnamon soap she always uses, and the leather in her jacket is still new and fresh and smells warm and like home, and Yang’s breathing evens out and Blake realizes in that moment that Yang had been holding back tears, and she whispers to her, ‘I’m sorry’, and Yang whispers back, ‘I know.’    
  
  



End file.
